Gray Memories
by LadyLora13
Summary: The Warden Commander takes a moment alone to relive a precious memory. AlistairxWarden


Hello, I am LadyLora13 and this is my first Dragon Age Origins piece and my first publication here. I do not own Dragon Age, this is just a fanfic, I'm just a fan, you know the rest. This is a small piece but I hope you enjoy! If this one-shot proves marginally successful I may write more, so if you read review please!

* * *

Even after eight years the scene felt so familiar. Elsia sat in an inconspicuous booth in a far corner of the Gnawed Noble Tavern. In that secluded little spot she could watch everything and everyone.

The atmosphere was alive with the loud, excited voices of rowdy customers. Every table was taken and the counter was crawling with people. The Gnawed Noble Tavern was packed! Barmaids scurried between tables with trays laden with fresh food and frothing mugs. Men could be heard bellowing their orders and giving the more attractive barmaids shrill wolf whistles. The barkeep stood indifferent to the hustle and bustle; he monitored the action from his post with the reverence of a sentinel. He had the uncanny ability to sense fights before they turned violent, and sent the guilty party shamefully shoved out the front door.

The energy in the bar shone like a beacon in the dusky streets of Denerim. The sun slid silently into the west, all but forgotten by the bar's patrons. Another day ended in the busy capital of Ferelden.

Elsia remembered when she first saw Denerim. Back when the sky had been bleak, the streets cast in shadows, the people apprehensive. Rumors of the Grey Wardens' betrayal had festered in the city. Fear ruled Denerim during the Fifth Blight.

It had been foolhardy to even approach the city. Yet Elsia had walked through the streets wearing her title proudly. Elsia never hid the fact she was a Warden, even when such a declaration was answered with a blade. Loghain, prince regent at the time, labeled the Grey Wardens as traitors. Loghain's followers and hired swords had ruthlessly hunted the Wardens. Back then Elsia and her companions would often seek shelter in The Gnawed Noble Tavern, a quiet musty pub then with surreptitious customers in dreary hoods.

Now, after years of rebuilding, Denerim was thriving and the Gnawed Noble Tavern was full of thirsty, colorful characters. Fereldens filled the tavern from dusk till dawn, or in some cases, early afternoon depending on how much beer was available.

Her early days in Denerim had its share of bloody and miserable moments, but Elsia held onto them tightly. Every moment of her life then - the slaughter at Ostagar, the nights spent in the unrelenting cold, the battles, the victories, the losses, the happiness, the pain – held significance. They had shaped her into a strong, respected Warden-Commander. Elsia had rebuilt the Order, recruiting Wardens from all across Ferelden. Even when the Vigil had been nearly obliterated by a Darkspawn army she saw it restored, stone by stone. Her experience served her and her country well. Even the highly lauded Queen Anora, a ruler known for her tireless devotion, would sometimes raise a glass in praise to the Hero of Ferelden.

Sitting in her lonely seat, unremarkable in her black robes and hood, Elsia indulged herself in a memory. Time stood still and the boisterous tavern fell silent. A moment known only to her, a man kept alive in gray memories.

* * *

"So, question time," announced Alistair. He and Elsia had a rare moment alone in the Gnawed Noble Tavern. They stood side by side at the counter, idly waiting for the others.

Alistair peered at Elsia over his mug. His eyes were sparkling. Alistair put his drink down and slid it towards Elsia. She took a small sip and smiled.

"I live to answer. What is your question?"

"It's kind of personal. I've been wondering about it for a while. I didn't want to ask and look nosy or annoying. You don't talk much about yourself." Alistair leaned against the counter lazily. "Well, you brag enough as it is, but this question is personal."

Elsia folded her arms across her chest defiantly. "I do not! When have I ever bragged? I'm no immature apprentice! I am far too good for bragging. Only people who know me brag about me, and it's not like I ask them to. It's only natural after they see how intelligent and skilled I am."

Alistair burst into laughter and placed a hand on her shoulder. Elsia knew her face was turning red. She felt strangely lighter around Alistair. She didn't have to stand on protocol around him.

For years Elsia had answered everyone in the same dry, clear-cut manner. In the Circle she had focused solely on her education, her single-minded behavior mirroring that of a Tranquil. Since becoming a Grey Warden she was comfortable talking openly. As Morrigan put it, 'the caged bird finally found her voice.'

"Fine! You don't brag. You have people do that for you." Alistair's easygoing smile was replaced with a look of hard solemnity. His eyes met Elsia's. He gently squeezed her shoulder.

"So, back to my question. Elsia." Alistair spoke her name softly. Elsia became all too aware of how close they were standing. She tried to inch herself away, but she suddenly felt heavier than Shale. Surely Alistair could see how uncomfortable she was. Her face must have been redder than a rose! Oh, that rose! The flower was still pinned to her robes. Elsia had told him before she needed more time to consider. Could this question possibly be the question?

"Where are you from?"

"… That's it? That's your question?" Elsia released a sorrowful sigh. It wasn't the question she was expecting, and she was relived but frustrated at the same time.

"That's not a real question! You know where I'm from! You were a templar for Maker's sake! We've been to the Tower how many times now?" She grabbed the mug and took a long drink. "You're not allowed to drink anymore, stupid Prince," she mumbled into the brownish liquid.

Alistair held up a hand in his defense. "Wait, wait, I know you were a Circle mage. I'm asking where you come from. Your, uh, place of origin?"

"And you already know! Circle! Magi! Say it with me, 'Circle! Ciiiircle!'" Elsia slurred her words purposely then guzzled down the rest of the ale.

Alistair tried to take the empty mug, but Elsia snatched it and held it up at arm's reach. Elsia had to strain to keep the mug dangling just out of his grasp.

"No, not that! You're not listening." He placed a hand on her arm. "I want to know about your life before the Circle. Where were you born? What was your family like?" he insisted.

The question was finally asked. Her head began to ache. Elsia lowered her arm and tapped the cup irritably against the counter. "Family. You again with family. My family was the Tower, my tutors, and books. They raised me. Does that answer your question?"

Alistair placed his hand over hers and she let him take the cup. He took her right hand and held it. "I have the strangest feeling you're mad at me. Let me explain before you zap me into tiny crispy pieces."

Alistair smiled sadly. "It's just… you found my mother's pendant. Then after I met that shrew, Goldana, you were there and helped... open my eyes. You've always been there, and I just want to know more about you. I want to know everything about you." Alistair blushed. "I mean, I'm just curious. You know my dirty laundry, now I want to know yours! Ah…"

Elsia took a deep breath. Listening to his explanation cleared her head."It's okay, Alistair. I might have snapped a little. I'm not used to drinking."

Alistair nodded. "Got it. One drink is your limit." His eyes danced with amusement. "Grey Warden defeated, the victor: cheap ale."

Elsia giggled at that. She felt a little braver. Perhaps Alistair deserved to know. "You want to know where I was born, right? Where I lived before I joined the Circle? That's… The thing is…the answer…"

She struggled to find the right words. The story had only been told once before, to her closest friend, Jowan. She had never planned on telling it to anyone else.

Elsia lowered her head in thought and her long hair fell forward hiding her face. Alistair took a strand of toffee blonde hair and tucked it behind her ear. She looked into his eyes and began her story.

"I… can't tell you about where I was born. I have no memory of my family. I… When I arrived in the Circle I didn't know my name, or where I was. I didn't even know what the word 'mage' meant."

My earliest memory is of waking up in the Tower infirmary. I woke up in a panic, screaming. The healers had to strap me to the bed. I remember wishing they would stop touching me, and I must have cast mind blast because one healer was sent flying into a wall. A templar came and put a ward in place to control my magic. I… spat in his face. I couldn't understand that they were trying to help me. I could only scream and try to fight back. I was kept there for I don't know how many weeks. That time is blurry." The words came out in a rush. Elsia had to catch her breath. Her voice was hoarse.

"I… don't know what to say." Alistair hesitated, shocked at the confession. "I'm sor -"

"No. Don't say it. I'm telling you this because I want you to know the truth about me, not because I want your sympathy." Elsia heard herself, and felt her old uniform, cold voice again. She shook her head to banish that unfeeling tone.

"When I was well enough to sit up and eat on my own, the First Enchanter came to visit me, First Enchanter Irving. He came once every day. He changed my bandages and sat with me for hours. He would never stop talking. He would bring storybooks and read them to me. I began to look forward to his visits and eventually I began to realize who I was, where I was. He told me about magic, mages, about the Circle, about… myself."

Irving explained to me that I had been in a terrible incident and badly hurt. I suffered from a head injury, a concussion. That incident is what brought me to the Ferelden Circle. Before, I had been part of a different Circle, but they couldn't heal me. I was brought to Ferelden in a last effort to… bring me back. The Spirit Healers here saved me. Irving saved me."

I was so excited when Irving said I was able to leave the infirmary. He gave me a tour of the Tower. I recognized some of the mages who had looked after me. I made it my goal to learn the name of every Spirit Healer who had attended me. Heh, I was such a little girl. I wouldn't let Irving rest until I met every Enchanter. After that day I knew who I was, and I knew what I wanted to become. I… wanted to become a mage that Irving would be proud of."

Elsia shocked herself. She had said more than she had anticipated. Telling her story brought a sense of relief. It had been buried under her pain, remorse, and fears. She had thought it would be like opening an old wound, instead it felt like she had opened a window.

Suddenly Elsia had the feeling of being watched. She blinked and saw four faces staring back at her. Leliana, Wynne, and Zevran had returned.

Alistair shrugged helplessly. "I was going to tell you, but, well, I didn't want to interrupt your story."

Leliana began to clap. "It was beautiful, Elsia! You were so sincere! I could practically see you as a little girl holding hands with Irving," said Leliana, her smile contagious.

"You have come a long way. Irving is very proud of you, but you have much to do as a Grey Warden." Wynne smiled knowingly. Her words were kind but there was a lecture behind those wise old eyes.

Elsia sighed, "I wasn't expecting an audience." She wondered how much they had heard, and if the story was going to spread later that night in the Gnawed Noble Tavern.

"We snuck in. But do be more careful where you spiel your life story," reprimanded Wynne. "This tavern is notoriously known throughout Denerim."

Zevran nodded in agreement with Wynne. "What the bartender hears spreads faster than a bad rash!"

"You'll have to tell me the whole story again later. I want to make sure I got everything," added Leliana.

Elsia cleared her throat. They should be focusing on their trek into the Frostback Mountains. "Yes, I know. I am very fascinating. But we have our mission to discuss."

Orzammar won't be a pleasure trip. If the information we've gathered is correct then they're currently in a political upheaval since the dwarven king's death. That doesn't change their obligation to the Wardens. We'll remind them of that. I want to discuss the incident with Weylon, the fake Weylon, but let's find Morrigan and Sten first. They should have plenty of supplies by now."

With the objective set, the five began to move. Alistair was the first to reach the door and held it open. Wynne and Leliana talked about what would be warmest to wear in the snowy mountains. They left ahead of Elsia. She lingered for a moment. Duty called. She had just taken her first step before she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned to see Zevran raise a hand and wave.

"Wait, before we go, I have one quick question regarding your touching narrative."

Elsia pinched the bridge of her nose. Another question, great.

"Make it quick, Zevran. Places to go, quests to complete," called Alistair.

"I'm curious. You said you were in a Circle before the one in Ferelden. Do you know where this other Circle was?" asked Zevran.

"Yes, in fact, the Freemarches, the Circle in the city-state of Kirkwall. It's fairly close to Ferelden," answered Elsia. With no memories of her life then she never cared to know more about the place. She considered herself Ferelden first and foremost.

Alistair's face lit up in recognition. "Kirkwall! The Circle there is in an old prison called The Gallows. Not a great vacation destination. I hear the rules there are strict for mages and templars."

Zevran gave Elsia a wily smile. "Hmm, I was hoping you were from someplace far-off and exotic." He bowed, motioning for Elsia to go ahead of him. "After you, my amnesiac friend."

It was time to leave the Gnawed Noble Tavern. Her moment with Alistair had been interrupted, but Elsia would have another one soon. The Warden mage walked beside the Warden prince. Their journey watched by the restless, cruel yellow eyes of destiny.


End file.
